Disclaimer: The setting, and several characters in this story are taken from HUNTERxHUNTER © POT (Yoshihiro Togashi) 1998 All Rights Reserved, and are being used here, solely for purposes of parody/entertainment. The plot, and all other characters are the creation of the author, and any resemblance to actual events or persons alive or deceased is purely accidental, and unintentional.
This story features one of Mr. Togashi's male characters in a light romantic pairing with an original female character. If such a pairing might interest you, please continue with this story, and thank you for your time.
Summary: The massive gates and walls of Kukuru Mountain are not bulwark against all that exists in the very different world, outside. The worlds of Padokian politics and its most famous professional assassins meet, as romance unexpectedly manages to breach that seemingly impregnable barrier.
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Come Back to Kukuru Mountain
by Federname
1. Her Situation
"I suppose someone should go after her, don't ya think?" Killua lazily drawled, "Mike's out after all. Dad'll be pissed if a customer gets eaten."
"Well it's not going to be me!" huffed Milluki, still miffed at her refusal to visit his doll collection...again.
A long-suffering sigh came from the back of the room. Placing a small, well-worn copy of Tropical Venomous Spiders and Their Effects on the Human Nervous System onto a nearby table, Illumi Zaoldyeck unfolded his long legs and stretched. "I know. I'll go," he said resignedly. "You could hardly be expected to reach her in time anyway." This last remark directed witheringly at Milluki, who averted his eyes but pointedly sniffed unconcernedly while continuing to scroll through text on his cell.
The object of this discussion was at the moment enjoying the beautiful grounds of the Zaoldyeck home on Kukuru Mountain. A mid-autumn day, warm and inviting, had lured Lucia VerHoffen from the cold dark confines of the mansion, and despite some small misgivings from the look she had seen exchanged between the Zaoldyeck offspring when she'd stated her intention to go for a walk, she was feeling more light-hearted than she had earlier on this visit.
Not that visiting the Zaoldyecks was hard or really onerous in any way. They were hired help after all. Expensive, important, uniquely qualified hired help, but paid for all the same. This put the onus on them as hosts and made for much less bowing and scraping, and ego stroking than other visits she accompanied her father on. Luther VerHoffen was a fixture in Padokia's political world, and was determined to bring up his daughter as he himself had been raised, with the knowledge and skills to use all of that world's important tools, from flattery and bribery, to threats and the much more permanent solutions that had necessitated their current presence here.
She had been part of her father's entourage for as long as she could remember; further back even, as a pretty baby can be used as a distraction, or as a play for sympathy, or a conversation starter. And sometimes, people thought that a man who doted on his child must be soft, and so might underestimate Minister VerHoffen. Not more than once though. Now, at fifteen and just coming out of that awkward stage, Lucia suspected she might soon be used for a different type of distraction, but certainly not here. Mrs. Zaoldyeck had apparently fallen in love with her infant self (well the poor woman did have five boys), and visits here had always meant a lot of attention and being fussed over by the lady of the house. To this very end, today she was dressed with obvious femininity, rosy colors, and gauzy fabric. A costume was a small price to pay to please someone useful. But it had been a waste, as Mrs. Zaoldyeck's skills were especially suited to the current job her father wanted done, and so she, in addition to her husband, had been locked in plans and negotiations with the Minister for the past three hours.
This meant Lucia had been left with the Zaoldyeck boys. Now a professional politician prides him or herself on being able to deal with anybody, and Lucia fancied herself well on the way to pro status. And it's not as if she hadn't had practice with all sorts of people already, and it's not as if she didn't already know the boys, she'd seen them once or twice a year for her entire life. But it is a very different thing to be with children and their effusive mother, and to be with them alone. She'd only met four of them anyway, but those were the four present when she was shown to that stone walled room.
Kalluto, the littlest, perhaps five or so, was sitting on the floor, on a rug made of the hide of some dead animal. He was playing with several dolls. He was dressed like a doll himself. A beautiful Japanese doll…. a girl doll…. Mrs. Zaoldyeck must be getting desperate, Lucia thought. On closer inspection, those weren't dolls he was handling, but rather anatomical models, the kind with removable multicolored organs. What a clever way to familiarize children with anatomy, deduced Lucia. Against the back wall, under the lone window, curled like a cat on a ledge, the oldest brother Illumi was reading. She'd never spoken much to him. He had held himself apart on her other visits, as older children usually do around younger ones. In between those two, sprawled on his side on the stone floor, lay Killua, seven or eight, Lucia guessed, running his skateboard back and forth with his hand, giving a ride to what appeared to be a boiled clean monkey skeleton. She supposed that had come from the same "Fun with Biology" box as the models that the Zaoldyeck parents gave their kids to play with. And to her right, seated in the only comfortable chair in the room, was Milluki.
She didn't have to guess his age. She knew. They were the same age. He had reminded her of that fact several times, on previous visits. As though that meant they should stick together. She herself had picked him out as needy and likely to latch on to her and she had done nothing to discourage it until the summer of her thirteenth year.
Mrs. Zaoldyeck had had a dressmaker's appointment and Milluki had suggested they go to his room and he would show her his models. Lucia had thought they would be planes or cars, or maybe monsters or robots. But no, they were a different sort of anatomical model, with childlike faces, but huge breasts and strange holes and plastic ridges. They gave her the creeps. Then he offered to teach her a brand new, as yet unavailable, video game. She had sat down in front of his impressive computer system while he stood behind and reached across her to the controller. He put his hands on top of hers and his arms reached around both her and the chair. He began to demonstrate the moves with the controller; all the while moving his arms up and down so his forearms kept brushing against her chest. She pushed herself back into the chair but his arms pulled back too. "Thanks. I've got it!" she chirped, wrenching the controller from his grasp. Somewhat relieved she began to play the game. It was quite good, really involving for a first person shooter and she was completely absorbed in it. It seems Milluki was as well, from all the sounds he was making behind her. The "Oh, oh, yeah", the grunts, the heavy breathing and what was that squishy wet sound? Up from the chair she shot, ripping off the headset and dropping the controller onto the chair. "Gotta go now, Milluki." She had bolted from the room, not looking back to confirm or deny her suspicions but recovering her equilibrium enough to add a hasty, "Thank you for showing me the game," from the relative safety of the hall. After all, politeness shows control, and control is power.
Now she faced four sets of dark assessing eyes. Whether blue or black, all the Zaoldyeck children had dark, judgmental eyes. They were utterly and completely still for half a dozen heartbeats…and then they went back to what they had been doing. It was like some kind of unspoken test or rating. She wasn't sure if their reaction, or lack of one, meant she had passed or failed. But she bravely shouldered on, stopping first with the one she considered to be the easiest, the youngest, Kalluto.
Kneeling down on the fur she played about with the dolls, she asked about his lessons, if he wanted her to read him a story. She re-arranged the clips in his dark lustrous pageboy and talked about anything she could think of that might interest a five year old. He was so quiet and passive that after a while she began to think of him as a doll instead of a little boy, and then she knew she'd better stop and move on.
She looked over to Killua, running that skateboard methodically back and forth; she didn't have to look at Milluki. She'd felt his eyes on her since entering the room. Deciding to face him sooner rather than later, and while she still had some excuse for escape, she turned to her right. Milluki immediately locked eyes with her and began to get out of the chair. Huh? Had he always been that heavy? Well, she decided, he'd always been pudgy and soft, but this was different. He was definitely on the road to obesity, but she didn't think his hungry need for attention and affirmation could be satisfied by food. Almost before she noticed it, he had her hand in his own warm, slightly damp, sweaty one; and completely unbidden, memories of two summers past clouded her mind. It was hard for her to even hear him, but it sounded like he was offering to show her something on his computer, or the models… in his room. "No, no, thank you," she retorted, as calmly as she could, though her stomach had begun to churn on its own. "I'm way out of practice. Haven't played in a couple of years. It would be wasted on me." Maintaining a frozen smile, she reclaimed her hand and rapidly turned away. And if there was a tiny pang of sympathy at the young man's distress and loneliness, it was quickly squashed as the situation was filed, with the callousness of youth, under: Not My Problem.
Illumi was given a surreptitious glance, but like some castle gargoyle, he was seemingly affixed to the wall, unmoving, nose planted in the book. She wasn't going to interrupt that, since she could afford to wait until they had to leave and she and her father made their formal goodbyes. The eldest son always took part in that; so she would have that opportunity to acknowledge his existence, and she couldn't be faulted for rudeness. And who knows? Maybe he had some exam he was studying for, if assassins had such things. She left him alone and approached Killua.
"Did you know him?" she inquired after the monkey.
Killua didn't look up but answered, "Yeah."
Pause. "Was he a friend of yours?"
A slight hitch in the rhythmic rolling… "He was real mean and nasty, and when you got too close, he'd bite ya. He can't do that anymore." This was said almost without inflection, but when he finished, Killua looked up and smiled.
"Oh," she uttered perfunctorily. How was one to respond to that? Sympathy was apparently not warranted.
Perhaps she was going about this the wrong way. The Zaoldyecks were cooped up here on this remote mountain. She regularly traveled around the world. Maybe they would enjoy hearing the latest news and gossip. "Well I just returned from school to the Capital…." And for almost an hour she endeavored to regale the room with tales of juiciest gossip, the most vicious intrigue, and the most embarrassing faux pas that she could remember, until Killua finally stopped rolling his skateboard and turned his head to look up at her. He didn't say anything, but his expressive eyes spoke volumes about how her monologue had been received.
"Well, it certainly looks to be a fine day," she continued, not missing a beat. She'd been looking on and off at the window above Illumi while she had been talking, as every so often, beautiful gold and crimson leaves would blow up against it like autumnal butterflies. "I think I'll treat myself to a walk around your lovely grounds. Please don't trouble yourselves, I can see myself out." She caught a brief pointed look between Kalluto and Killua, but not knowing what to make of it and feeling that whatever it was couldn't be as bad as what might result from her staying in the room and completely losing it, turned on her heel like a marionette and briskly marched outside.
Lucia had never seen the Zaoldyeck grounds, from the ground. She and her father had always arrived by airship. The trees had looked beautiful from the sky, but here, walking through them, they were spectacular, The Forest Primeval. Of course, since she had always arrived from the sky, Lucia had no idea of the massive wall and gates that surrounded the estate, or of the terrible guardian that dwelt on these grounds.